


went out searching freedom in the woods and found myself in your arms

by achlyss



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Established Kim Byeongkwan/Lee Donghun, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired By Dead Poets Society, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, SehJunChan Centric, Side DongKwan, Slow Burn, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 12:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achlyss/pseuds/achlyss
Summary: Yuchan turned in their hold and instead of his back, Sehyoon felt Yuchan’s chest press against his, felt Yuchan’s arms come around his and Junhee’s waists and tighten his hold around them.He felt their loud, excited heartbeats near his, felt their bodies tense and relax in the same way his did in their arms, felt the world rearrange itself and fell in peace, in its rightful place as they stayed wrapped in each other’s embraces.Sehyoon was sure he had found the right word for his feelings on that night in the cave.He let the reality sink in.He was in love.He was in love with two of his friends.And suddenly all his recent poems made sense.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there.  
> I wrote this story right after I finished rewatching Dead Poets Society for the third time in a row. The whole thing was written in one sitting, so the second (and final) part is most likely to come in the next 24 hours.  
> I'm not very imaginative coming up with names, so I kept the original name of the school (Welton) and few of the original characters from the movie (Mr. Keating and Mr. Nolan so far). If you have already seen the movie that's great, if you haven't I recommend you watch it. It's beautiful, very beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time, but one could learn great things from it, so do consider it. Also, ignore the name of the play, I couldn't come up with anything better.  
> The title may change. I'm not sure of it yet.  
> That's it I guess, finally a SehJunChan story, took me ages. I hope you will enjoy reading it.  
> I didn't get to fix any mistakes, so I apologize for them in advance.  
> (Credits are given to the rightful owners of the poems and quotes in the text itself, if they aren't then they are my own work, some bits and general idea are taken from the movie, but this story will take a completely different direction).  
> Thank you so much for reading.  
> Take care.

 

**I.**

 

“Junhee!” The door of Park Junhee’s dorm room was thrown open without any prior warning, sending its quiet occupants in frantic scrambling as they tried to hide whatever forbidden things they were being up to and revealed a young male, face split in a wide smile and eyes shining in the same way silver would shimmer on the bottom of the clear lake while moon casted its mysterious light upon its surface.

“Chan.” Park Junhee, frozen on his bed like a startled deer in the headlights, breathed out in relief when he recognized who the person standing on his doorway was, and pulled out the notebook he had very unsuccessfully tried to hide earlier from under his pillow.

“Sorry.” He was greeted by an unapologetic grin of his best friend as the boy invited himself inside the room and before Junhee could utter a greeting stretched out on his slightly elder friend’s bed, completely unaware of the presence of another male inside the room. “Donghun wants to know if you are coming tonight.” Chan unfolded the message he had been sent to deliver, grinning up at Junhee like an overly excited puppy that had come out to play with its owner as he wiggled around to find a comfortable position on the bed.

“Couldn’t he come and ask himself?” Junhee placed the notebook he had attempted to hide just a minute prior on the bedside table in between the two equally narrow beds and turned to look down at his younger friend on the bed.

“Busy snogging Byeongkwan in their room.” Chan’s grin turned into a coy smile before wiggling his brows at the older male suggestively. Junhee let an airy laugh escape his lips as his hand came up to ruffle the younger’s hair. “Besides, do you not want to see me?” Before he could blink Chan’s grin suddenly vanished off of his face and it was replaced by what one would call a kicked-puppy look that Yuchan and Donghun used very often to get their ways with Byeongkwan and Junhee. However, the previous glint of mischievousness remained clear in the younger’s eyes.

“Of course, I do.” Junhee admitted with a sigh and continued gently stroking the other male’s hair with his fingers as a fond, warm smile danced across his lips. Chan’s face broke back into his signature wide grin, instantly turning back to an excited puppy instead of a kicked one. Junhee couldn’t help, but find it endearing, _very, very endearing._

“So, you coming?” Chan asked once more before nuzzling his face in Junhee’s palm. He rolled on his side and startled Junhee out of his little reverie one more time when he let out a loud yelp, his eyes finally finding themselves falling on the unfamiliar boy sitting across him and Junhee at the edge of the second bed, trying to look at anywhere, but the pair on the other side of slightly cramped room.

“Who is this?” Chan asked and pushed himself upright, his already endless curiosity suddenly piqued by the appearance of an unfamiliar figure.

“Channie, this is Sehyoon, my new roommate.” Junhee cleared his throat softly before gesturing his friend to the black haired boy on the other bed. “Sehyoon, this is Yu...” Junhee was about to introduce the younger when Chan brushed past him and cut him off, inching closer to Sehyoon and examining him his squinting eyes, his button-like nose scrunched up in concentration. He did resemble a puppy. Junhee found himself smiling at the thought, feeling slightly foolish, as his younger friend introduced himself to the other male.

“I’m Yuchan or Chan. Both is fine.” Yuchan grinned at the other, ignoring how uncomfortable Sehyoon looked at the sudden eagerness and closeness of the puppy-like stranger that had suddenly turned in his peaceful dorm room and made himself more comfortable than Sehyoon would ever find himself even in his own bedroom, all alone, back home.

“I.. um, I.. I’m Sehyoon.” Sehyoon’s voice was small, soft and almost faint as he returned Yuchan’s introduction with his own, and Junhee found his nervous stammering endearing, his shyness and awkwardness unknown to the walls of Welton, always for kids with too much confidence, loud and boastful and always willing to engage in a conversation, trying to fit in, trying to slip in a small group and remain part of it until the last minute of their days in school. He found his new roommate’s character new and unexplored and slightly mysterious and it awoke waves of curiosity inside him. _This newness. This Unfamiliarity. It was needed. So much needed._ And as Yuchan probed the new comer with his curious eyes, Junhee made a silent note to keep a watchful eye on him to make sure Sehyoon’s days at their hell of a school was even a slightly little bit easier.

“Welcome to hell, Sehyoon!” Yuchan suddenly exclaimed and spread his arms out widely, still grinning, always grinning, grinning and grinning and grinning, that mischievous, wild, untamable, unyielding grin of his. _Grinning._

“Don’t shatter his dreams of enjoying his time at Welton so fast, Channie.” Junhee reached forward and gathered the back of Yuchan’s orange sweater in a fist to pull him back down on the bed and away from flushed Sehyoon.

“Well, someone has to warn him and considering all you do is to daydream out of the classroom, I take it upon myself.” Yuchan flashed Sehyoon a thumps up, evoking a small, shy smile from the other male and Yuchan turned to look at Junhee with a smug expression that said _“see.”_

Junhee sighed, soft, and parted his lips to say something as Yuchan’s expecting eyes trained on his face, but the words died silently on his lips as his gaze fell on the tall man standing on the doorway.

“Junhee.” The man, his father, said simply, but Junhee knew it was an order. He felt himself shudder, flinching slightly, but almost unnoticeably. One had to be really, really looking to catch the sudden shift in his body language.

Yuchan’s smug smile vanished off of his face at the voice and he whipped his head around to look at Junhee’s father standing by the door, disapproving expression evident on the man’s face as he stared inside the room.

“Mr. Kang.” The man nodded at him, curt, and Yuchan felt his insides twist, uncomfortable, trying to mask obvious dislike of Junhee’s father as he forced a smile on his face.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Park.” Yuchan said, raising himself slightly from the bed in a greeting and Junhee didn’t have to try to catch the forcefulness of his friend’s actions. Yuchan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, his agile body suddenly growing stiff.

“Likewise.” Junhee’s father returned rather grimly and gestured Junhee out of the door. “A word with you.” He added and Junhee was up to his feet and on his way to the man. He felt a gentle, brief push on his hip as he passed Yuchan. His friend’s way of showing his support, telling him silently to have courage.

Sehyoon watched the exchange silently, his eyes fleeting in between the stoic-looking man on the door, to Junhee who had suddenly grown rigid, his previously sparkling eyes now fearful, and Yuchan, whose smile was no longer bright and delightful, but full of loathing.

The door closed quietly behind Junhee’s back and both males remained still and silent for a few minutes, Sehyoon’s eyes lingering on Yuchan’s face as Yuchan’s eyes stayed frozen on the door.

A minute later, as though someone invisible had suddenly pulled him out of his daze, Yuchan’s dull eyes flickered back to life and returned to rest Sehyoon, wide grin slowly warming up its way on the boy’s face.

“You should come with Junhee tonight.” Yuchan told him, mischievous glinting of his eyes back, before pushing himself off of the bed and disappeared in the similar way he had appeared on their doorway, without any announcement, leaving Sehyoon alone, wondering to where Yuchan had invited him and what his remaining days of school had prepared to put him through.

 

**II.**

 

“Hey, Chan told me he had invited you to come along tonight, will you be coming?” Junhee asked after dinner when both of them had found shelter back in their shared room, turning over on his desk chair to look at Sehyoon, who had curled himself on the furthest corner of his bed, staring at a blank paper with intent. Junhee was sure it would catch fire if Sehyoon continued to stare at it a minute longer.

Sehyoon glanced up at him, pale fingers wrapped around the black pencil tightly as confusion spread over his face and made home to itself inside Sehyoon’s black eyes, slightly lost, and slightly calm, and slightly stormy, various, opposing emotions crashing and turning and twisting and turning inside them.

“He didn’t give any details, did he?” Junhee asked and shook his head lightly, small, knowing smile gracing his lips. Sehyoon gave him a small, hesitant nod.

Junhee pushed himself up from the chair and sat down at the end of Sehyoon’s bed, aware of the male’s personal space, cautious to not cause him any discomfort.

“We leave school on every Sunday, Wednesday and Friday at 9 p.m. There is a small cave in the woods by the river, we sit there and read poems out loud to each other, share some silly stories of love and of horror and of mysteries, mess around and break the rules, just do something of our liking and most importantly, be free, free, free, free, nothing, but the woods and our own will, no rules to obey and no expectations to uphold, but to just live freely even for a little bit. It’s a tradition. We have been doing it for a year now. You haven’t met Professor Keating yet, have you? You will love him when you do. He was the one who told us about it, the one who had done the same thing among many others thirty years ago.” Junhee explained in a hushed voice, eyes lit in fire as he spoke, and Sehyoon found himself leaning forward, drawing closer to the other male, his heart, body, mind and soul in full concentration.

The way Junhee talked, it was something Sehyoon, had always wanted, but would never find himself doing, so easily, as if words, like some magical creature, a bird of mysteries, set themselves free through his lips and wrapped his listeners under their wings, puts them under their spell as the fire danced inside the boy’s eyes lazily. Sehyoon felt fascinated, very, very fascinated by his roommate.

“I... I do.. don’t know.” Sehyoon whispered, faintly. He wanted to go, of course, he did. The thought trilled him, pulled his curiosity to its peak, but he couldn’t. Whenever he tried to express his thoughts, his ideas, his opinions, he found himself being less of himself when he spoke out loud. He could only talk freely inside his head, thought had become his native language over the years and he would rather remain in his comfort zone and let his thoughts and ideas found their way inside his head and on the blank papers of his notebooks. “I can’t talk wi.. with others around not al.. aloud. I can... I can’t do it.” Sehyoon confessed, shy, slightly concerned, worried of the other’s reaction as he curled further into himself, growing smaller. For the first time in his life, aside his only sibling, he had admitted his fear to someone aloud.

He dared a look in Junhee’s direction and caught how his roommate’s smile fell for the smallest of moment, how fire in his eyes faded out before flickering back to life, as though it had just been a part of Sehyoon’s imagination, as though it was just his mind trying to seek approval for the thoughts it had born inside Sehyoon.

“It’s okay.” Junhee told him, smiling softly. “I’m sure the boys won’t mind. You can just come along until you feel comfortable enough to share something of your own. You can even make the minutes if you would like to. Keep our mad blabbering in that notebook of yours.” Junhee nodded at the notebook on Sehyoon’s lap with his chin, trying to encourage him.

“So, what do you think?” Junhee asked and got up when Sehyoon didn’t say anything, looking down at his new roommate with expecting eyes, looking down at Sehyoon not as one would look at a lesser being, but an equal. _When was the last time Sehyoon had felt something like that?_

He found himself nodding, hesitant, unsure, his heart pounding loudly inside his chest. Junhee cheered loudly, throwing his fist in the air, victorious, before remembering where he was and throwing a hand over his lips, afraid of any of the staff members lurking around in the empty corridors and hearing him.

He pressed his index finger against his lips, grinning widely, in a way it reminded Sehyoon of a cat, walking over to where Sehyoon was still curled up on the bed and holding his hand out for a shake.

“Welcome to Dead Poets Society, my friend.” Junhee smile, directed to him, was inviting, and Sehyoon found his trembling fingers curling around Junhee’s.

 

**III.**

 

Sehyoon waited for 9 p.m. anxiously, playing with the hem of his sweater, doodling on the edges of his notebook, playing with his pens and pencils as Junhee, calm and tranquil, stretched out on his bed, reading glasses resting on his nose, ankles crossed as he buried his face in a history book.

In just an hour Sehyoon had come to learn that Junhee and his friend – Donghun, had been the ones who had brought Dead Poets Society back to life thirty years after it had been first established. They had taken the idea from their new English Literature Professor Keating, who had been one of the founders of the society himself. Donghun had brought his boyfriend Byeongkwan along after the first few weeks and Junhee had taken his childhood friend Yuchan with him and then, Dead Poets Society had been reborn.

Sehyoon had never been a part of something like this before – something secretive, something shared with other people, something that awoken a sense of belonging, something that could offer him a safe place, a place he could fully be himself.

He had never really been a part of anything before. _Truly. Not really._ And he hadn’t never really tried to fit in, find himself a group of people that matched his steps, that understood him and he could understand. His classmates, people in his previous school had considered him strange, colorless, unworthy of attention and he had grown into it. Even his parents had considered him of nothing much of worth, always full of comparison and critique, look what your sister had done, look how your sister talks, moves, does things, he was the one considered as a disgrace to his family, his parents had never truly tried to look through him and see the entire universe of colors and lights inside their own son. The reason they had even considered sending him off of to a school such as Welton was that it could somehow change him, turn him into a better person, into their own image of how their son should have turned out.

Sehyoon had always felt out of place and he had grown fond of his solitude. Solitude had become a great friend of his over the years.

But, maybe, in this new school, with these new people, he could try. He would try to show them his true colors and wait if they could see the light inside him, if his soul could recognize theirs or if theirs could recognize his, drift closer and meet at the edge, at the edge where the world truly opened, where life showed its true form to whoever dared to stand where everything could end or blooming into a new life all over again.

Sehyoon liked Junhee. He was smart and witty and funny in a way Sehyoon had never found someone before, unyielding fire in his eyes inspiring, the way words spilled out in all the right ways out of his lips entrancing, giving birth to wonder and curiosity and great interest in the minds of his spectators. No matter how dull they were, how drained of curiosity and of life they were Sehyoon was sure Junhee would be able to bring their fires back by the way he spoke, by the way he whispered each word, with so much meaning and passion and without having to put any effort, as if he was born to speak, to lead, to inspire, to awoke.

He had awoken Sehyoon’s curiosity, not only of the Dead Poets, his friends, or their little society, but of Park Junhee as a person. Sehyoon wanted to know him better, understand how his mind worked, learn silent meanings of his body language, how life went on in his veins, hidden from the outsider’s eyes, but seen from within.

Sehyoon, as he gazed at Junhee on the other bed, was suddenly convinced that he could learn great things from Junhee, could use Junhee’s way with words, how he awoke inspiration and wonder inside him, to make great things, for himself and maybe for that dead poets society of theirs.

And he had liked Yuchan. Yuchan, who had flashed him a bright grin across the table during the dinner, eyes full of life and of curiosity, playing with Sehyoon’s interests in the similar ways Junhee did, but for completely different reasons. Junhee was inspiring and Yuchan was full of life, and it was both things Sehyoon had always thought he lacked, Sehyoon thought he needed to find.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the soft knock on the door of his and Junhee’s shared room. He felt himself shudder, stomach churning in nervousness. Maybe it was better to stay back. He suddenly felt a little sick.

Junhee was up and running as soon as the knock had echoed and filled their silent room, grabbing a torch and a cloak from his desk. Sehyoon thought the other had completely forgotten his existence for a second, but he hadn’t. Junhee stilled on the door, whispered something to whoever was on the other side and glanced back at tensed Sehyoon.

“Hurry. We have to leave.” Junhee urged, nodding him to the door and Sehyoon was up instantly, his body working instinctively, on its own, as though completely enchanted by the other male.

He carefully slipped out of the door after Junhee and gently closed it behind his back, and then it was too late to turn back. Four pairs of expecting eyes trained on him.

“Torches off. Let’s go. Be careful.” Junhee instructed and led the way through the dark corridor, as if he could see everything clearly, as if he had found his way through the same dark halls for so many times, he knew each turn and obstacle by heart.

Sehyoon stumbled on what felt like a floor transition strip, hands flailing to hold onto something for support and found his fingers desperately grasping the air. He felt his heart still, waiting for his body to collide with cold, wooden floor and mess up their plans of peaceful sneak out, get caught and expelled on the very first day. He pressed his lips tightly to suppress a startled yelp, but before he could fall a firm hand suddenly caught his shoulder, coming to the rescue of him and of his friends and of the plans they had made.

“Be careful.” A gentle voice warned quietly and steadied him. It didn’t belong neither  to Junhee or Yuchan. It was new, but stirred a sense of familiarity inside Sehyoon.

“You can hold my hand if you want.” Someone whispered on the other side of him. Even though the voice was small, Sehyoon could still recognize it as Yuchan’s. He searched blindly in the dark until their fingers met, his desperate, Yuchan’s awaiting, and the younger laced them together. Yuchan pulled him closer and led him out of the dark corridor silently without any other signs of trouble.

Sehyoon felt like it was not his first time sneaking out with them. He felt like he had done this for his whole life and felt an unfamiliar sense of belonging rush through his tense body, calming and comforting.

Junhee carefully pushed the door of school’s main entrance open and the five of them went out laughing quietly into the peaceful night, a whole new world of opportunities revealing itself to their young, earning hearts.

 

**IV.**

 

“Quiet. Quiet.” Junhee tried to hush his friends as they stumbled inside the cave, toppling over each other, breathless, loudly beating hearts inside their chests - excited. It had been almost two months since their last meeting. Junhee had missed this – sneaking out at night, with his friends, silent, peaceful night their only companion as they enjoyed their few hours of freedom, carefree and wild and unbothered.

Yuchan crawled beside him on the ground, still laughing softly, and pressed himself closer than usual on Junhee’s side. Junhee glanced at the younger, but Yuchan was not looking back at him. He was gesturing Sehyoon to sit next to him and Junhee on the ground. Sehyoon hesitated for a moment, glancing at them and the couple beside him before crawling next to Yuchan and received a winning grin from the younger male in return.

“Welcome back, Poets!” Junhee grinned, opening his arms widely in a greeting and looking around the cave. Everyone laughed at his exaggerated actions and Sehyoon found himself smiling without having to put any effort in it, free and no longer shy, feeling comfortable around his new friends. “You have the book, Donghun?” Junhee directed his attention to Donghun, a gentle looking boy with brown hair seated right across Sehyoon, who nodded at Junhee and pulled out a thick, tattered book out of his cloak, grinning widely as he passed it over to his friend.

Sehyoon craned his neck to get a better look of the book, leaning closer to look over Yuchan’s head. The cover of the worn out book read _"Five Centuries of Verse",_ just below it Sehyoon could see neatly engraved _"Dead Poets"._

Sehyoon felt himself shiver. He wasn’t sure if it was from the sudden chilliness of the night or from the sudden excitement building up inside his chest, but he found this new, unfamiliar feeling exciting nevertheless.

“I'll read our traditional opening message by society member H. D. Thoreau.” Junhee told them, looking up from the book to glance at his companions, his gaze lingering on their faces for a few seconds before moving on. _“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life, and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.”_ Junhee read aloud and Sehyoon noticed how intensely everyone listened. He was sure they have heard him read the very same lines for hundreds time over and over before and it amazed him to see how they reacted as if it was their first time hearing these words.

“Now that the opening is over, why don’t you introduce our fellow poet over there, Junhee?” Donghun gestured at Sehyoon when Junhee closed the book and carefully placed it on the ground beside him. Sehyoon found himself fidgeting nervously when everyone directed his attention on him, their gazes suddenly growing heavy on his shoulders.

“Kim Sehyoon, my new roommate, invited to the society by the member Kang Yuchan himself.” Junhee motioned Donghun first to Sehyoon and then to Yuchan beside him. “Due to personal reasons he will only be keeping the minutes until he decides to engage actively in our discussions.” Junhee explained to the others, nodding at Sehyoon, encouragingly, as though silently telling him that it was fine, that they wouldn’t judge him if he didn’t want to talk, but at the same time implying that he would have to talk, someday, if not now, some other day, it was the whole point of the society, to talk, to share your stories of freedom, your poems, your words, your thoughts and ideas with others.

Sehyoon dared a smiled at the couple’s direction in front of him, nervously, and felt slightly eased when he received encouraging smiles in return.

“Lee Donghun.” The brown haired boy Sehyoon already knew as Donghun pointed at himself and then motioned him to the boy, Sehyoon assumed was Byeongkwan, next to him. “Kim Byeongkwan. My lover.” Donghun announced, chest rising proudly as he nestled his hand on Byeongkwan’s thigh, smiling smugly at his suddenly blushing boyfriend.

Sehyoon mumbled a quiet _“nice to meet you”,_ smiling shyly at them as they mirrored his actions back. Before atmosphere could get awkward Junhee clasped his hands together and gathered their attention back on himself.

“Shall we see what you have prepared over the summer? Don’t burn yourselves out on the first meeting, my dear poets, there are more to come.” Junhee announced, pointing his flashlight at them one by one. “So, who goes first?” He asked and no one said anything. Sehyoon assumed it was always Junhee who went first. “It’s me again then.” Junhee laughed softly and put the torch aside. He made himself comfortable on the ground and closed his eyes for a second, releasing a soft sigh.

Junhee looked around the cave as his lips parted, words finding their ways out of him freely, with no struggle, emotions spilling through his expressive eyes, his body, his arms dancing lightly to the gentle melody of his own voice.

_“...It repeats itself through eternity_

_But it’s too late_

_Regretting, regretting, regretting,_

_You should have lived when your time was numbered_

 

_Missing and wanting and longing and regretting_

_Has no meaning_

_When you have endless time_

_When the clock of life doesn't plan to stop turning in circles.”_

“So, my dear friends, tonight I ask, how can one regret the life one hadn’t led?” Junhee finished with a small smile, his eyes searching for understanding in his companions’ eyes and Sehyoon found himself releasing a breath he didn’t know was holding for the entire time, mesmerized, struck, inspired by the simplicity, but the truthiness of Junhee’s words held, his question travelled among them, from Junhee to Donghun, from Donghun to Byeongkwan, from Byeongkwan to Sehyoon, from Sehyoon to Yuchan and from Yuchan back to Junhee.

_They didn’t have endless time._

_There was no time to waste, no time to doubt, no time to regret._

_Make mistakes, learn from them, try again._

_Doubting, giving up, running away,_

_There was no time for that in the little cave of Dead Poets Society._

_There was only time for moving ahead, as far as they could, as long as their time would last._

Sehyoon had spent so much time of his life hiding, giving up, shying away, not trying, stuck inside his comfort zone most of his life.

He had let the world and the people in it push him in the corner of his comfort zone, afraid, undaring to step back outside.

He didn’t want to become one of those ghosts in Junhee’s poem.

He wanted to proudly say, I tried and have as less of regrets in life as possible.

_Their time was numbered and they had to live._

_They had to truly live._

_They had to suck out all the marrow of life._

 

**V.**

 

The 2 p.m. that Sehyoon had anticipated for the whole day finally came and he was led to the classroom of English Literature by his new friends, by his new companions, by his fellow poets of their secret society.

He had already heard so much of Professor Keating, so much good, so much wonderful, so much amazing stuff and he couldn’t wait to meet the man face to face. The classroom was half-filled by the anticipating students when Junhee pushed the door open as Yuchan dragged Sehyoon behind them inside the classroom.

Junhee took the very first desk in the middle row and him and Yuchan made Sehyoon sit in between them, while Donghun and Byeongkwan found their seats one after another in the row beside theirs.

“I haven’t seen Professor Keating yesterday.” Junhee said as he turned to face Sehyoon and Yuchan and the nods of agreement came from almost every side of the classroom.

“He probably arrived after dinner.” Byeongkwan turned in his seat to face them and flashed his friend a convinced grin. “Wonder which pages we will rip out this semester.” He wondered out loudly on purpose and the opinions didn’t delay as they flooded in from every corner of the classroom.

Sehyoon had come to learn that Professor Keating had made them rip almost half of the book to shreds previous semester. And even though they hadn’t really followed the book and the old curriculum, his friends had assured him, that Professor Keating’s class was definitely the one most of the students could proudly say had learned the most from, not only about literature, and poetry, and writing, but about life, and love, and happiness, and all the emotions known to the humankind.

The ball rang and everyone turned in their seats to face ahead, knowing smiles dancing on their faces as they waited for Professor Keating to show up as fashionably late as usual and make his grand entrance.

_“Carpe Diem. Seize the day boys,_

_make your lives extraordinary.”_

He had said to them on his very first day of class in _Hellton_ and since then Junhee and his merry band of Dead Poets had tried to make their lives extraordinary.

Minute passed after minute and Professor Keating didn’t arrive and worry and nervousness started to make themselves comfortable among the awaiting students, turning in their seats and glancing around, expectant gazes fixed on the slightly ajar door of the classroom.

The door was pushed open a few minutes later, but instead of Professor Keating it revealed Professor Nolan on the doorway, talking with someone outside.

“God, please no.” Byeongkwan whispered and the classroom, as in a queue, broke into hushed whispers, name of professor Keating travelling among one to another.

“Gentlemen.” Professor Nolan greeted, curt, as he walked in front of the classroom and placed the books he was holding on the desk. “I’ve unfortunate news to deliver. Mr. Keating has left us and won’t be teaching in Welton this, or may I say, any other semester. From today onwards I will be in charge of helping you acquire a great knowledge of English Literature.” The whole classroom broke into calls of protests and of asking what had happened to Professor Keating at the Professor Nolan’s announcement, but Mr. Nolan answered none of their desperate questions and pleadings, and made them read a boring essay by someone Junhee didn’t even bother to remember, fingers tightly grasping _“five centuries of verse”_ left to him by Professor Keating under his desk.

Professor Keating had promised them he would return.

He had told them that he didn’t care about the harsh scrutiny he had received from Mr. Nolan about his teaching methods, but he still hadn’t returned.

_Was it because of the chaos that had started to spread among students at school last year?_

_Was it because of how students had started breaking the abusive, oppressive rules of school since Professor Keating had arrived?_

Junhee needed to send Professor Keating a letter.

 

**VI.**

 

“How dare they?!” Donghun growled, pacing in Junhee’s and Sehyoon’s dorm room, almost fuming in anger.

Junhee sat on his desk chair, head hanging low and eyes fixed on the polished floor as he listened to his friend silently. He had not said a word to them since the class had ended, disappointment of not having Mr. Keating as their professor on his final year evident on his face.

“Nolan wanted him out of school since his first semester here. I am not that surprised.” Yuchan said as he rolling on his side to look at Donghun. He had made himself comfortable on Sehyoon’s bed, sad smile dancing on his lips. He was smiling, no matter how happy or how sad he was, Sehyoon noticed that Yuchan was always smiling. It confused him. A little bit. He had never imagined one could smile both in happiness and in pain at the same time. But Yuchan was still smiling. He didn’t let the world take his faith away from him.

“Should we send him a letter?” Byeongkwan suggested from where he sat on Junhee’s bed, hugging his friend’s pillow to his chest.

“Maybe after we have calmed down.” Junhee said finally and the room felt silent. Its occupants lost deep in thought.

Sehyoon curled into himself on the window sill, gaze wondering in between his friends and on the trees that were starting to fade from green to red and yellow outside. He had never met Professor Keating, but he could feel his friends’ disappointment and grief. He had a feeling he would love his classes. The way his friends had described the man and his teaching methods had stirred amazement and interest and respect inside Sehyoon’s heart.

 

**VII.**

 

Sehyoon had never in his life before felt the school days pass so fast, hours shaped into days, and days shaped into weeks so quickly he was left wondering where time had gone when Junhee announced to him the beginning of October.

He knew his new friends were part of the reason and their secret, late night getaways from school three days in a week. Sehyoon had always spent his school days alone, locked inside his room, with his pens and pencils and books and notebooks, waiting for time to pass, for the days, for months, semesters to be over as fast as possible. With his new friends, he didn’t have to sit and wonder about how slowly time passed, he went out and enjoyed the days, in carefree laughter, in comfortable surroundings, growing closer to his new companions and to his fellow poets of Dead Poets Society. He noticed himself becoming more open, less locked in himself, he stumbled lesser than usual on his words, laughed with ease, and listened to all his friends had to share with a happy heart.

He was still a silent guest on their meetings, making minutes, remembering each moment of importance and precious memories by heart as he committed them to memory.

He grew especially fond of Junhee and Yuchan in the past month. He liked all four of them, considered all four of them his friends, friends he could trust, friends he could go to when being lonely got unbearable, friends who made him want to crawl out of his lonely cave and into their loud, cheerful, lively one. But he couldn’t deny the fact that felt closer to Junhee and Yuchan. He felt a strange connection with them.

Sehyoon had spent many nights awake to explain it, to put a right word to what he felt, what their strange connection was, but he couldn’t find the right word, no matter how long he pondered his mind about it, it always ended up blank and as days passed, he stopped wondering about it completely, left it somewhere at the back of his mind and told himself to simply enjoy his time with them, their presence, what they had and what they shared.

Sehyoon believed that not everything needed an explanation, not everything was to be named and understood, and maybe what he felt when Junhee directed his gaze to him when he talked, or when Yuchan turned to give him one of his wide, bright, golden smiles, was one of those things, unnamed, unknown, inexplicable.

Time went and Sehyoon found his inspiration flowing freely, as if Junhee’s easy way of talking had made itself home inside Sehyoon’s head and had given its strength to Sehyoon’s thoughts and ideas. His notebook that had previously been completely empty, full of ripped out papers and smudged, crossed out sentences, was starting to fill with poems, with essays, with short stories and ideas and Sehyoon felt everything he had kept inside him bottled up over the years release itself in the form of words he carved on the blank papers of his notebook. It put him at ease, brought him peace, left him with less to worry about and gave him more to learn how to fully enjoy his life.

He found the book Professor Keating had left to Junhee of great help, short lines and words of encouragement and of mysteries of life, and love and happiness, and sadness, and of poetry, and of writing, their professor had written along the edges, giving birth to wild, unending, unyielding ideas inside Sehyoon’s head. He wrote without worry, without doubt, without comparison. He wrote with his own voice, with his own vision, with something only he had, with something no other would be able to tell, to write, to compare.

Sehyoon had always been told to put his notebook and silly ideas aside and work harder on his trigonometry, when writing and coming up with silly stories was all he had ever wanted to do in his life, and as the meetings of Dead Poets Society went on and on, he came to understand the importance even his silly ideas held and carried. Sehyoon slowly begin to realize that even his silly ideas, told to the right person, shared with the right person, at the right time, had the power, an ability, to change something or someone.

Now all he had left was to gather enough courage to share them, find enough strength to tell his companions a poem, or a story, or an idea, let the world know of what he had to tell. Now his desire of wanting to share his stories and poems was no longer forced, or out of obligation, no, now he truly wanted to tell, to share, to change, to change something even with his silly ideas, because as he had come to learn, in Dead Poets Society every thought, each poem, each word mattered.

 

**VIII.**

 

“Hey!” Junhee, who had suddenly barged in their dorm room, startled Sehyoon out of his thoughts. He quickly pressed his notebook against his chest, turning his carefully curved sentences away from Junhee’s ever so curious eyes.

“Hey.” Sehyoon greeted back, voice soft, and dared a hesitant glance at the other’s direction.

Junhee placed a large stack of books he had been holding on his desk and slipped out of his coat, folding it neatly and carefully on the back of his desk chair.

“Chan said you were not feeling well.” Junhee pushed himself on the only window sill in their small room and looked at him expectantly, as though he was waiting for Sehyoon’s explanation of why he had been absent from dinner.

Yuchan and Byeongkwan, as usual, had come by to ask Sehyoon to go with them to have dinner, but Sehyoon had refused, coming up with an excuse of not feeling well enough. However, he hadn’t expected his announcement to stir a fuss among his friends, but Yuchan had almost melted in worry as he had kept asking Sehyoon if the older male wanted him to run and fetch the school doctor and had checked his temperature twice to make sure he didn’t have a fever.

Sehyoon, with the help of Byeongkwan, who had been quick to catch on Sehyoon’s obvious excuse, had to assure their younger friend that it was nothing serious and had finally persuaded him to go to dinner with Byeongkwan.

Sehyoon had been in the middle of writing a poem, something maybe he could read at their next meeting, and he hadn’t want to go out and get distracted from his initial emotions. But at the end, Yuchan had been enough of distraction. Sehyoon had been unable to concentrate after Byeongkwan had dragged the younger male out of Sehyoon’s and Junhee’s dorm room.

However, Sehyoon was neither angry nor disappointed, couldn't make himself to be. Yuchan had seemed genuinely worried and it had been Sehyoon’s first time being exposed to such compassionate and caring side of his younger friend, not even his mother worried that much when Sehyoon felt sick, not since Sehyoon had left his sweet childhood behind. He had realized that Yuchan wasn’t as much of a happy-go-lucky person as he had initially thought and the younger had much more complex, deeper sides to him that Sehyoon had yet to explore.

“Hey, you here, Yoon?” Junhee snapped his fingers in front of Sehyoon’s face, and finally pulled him back to the present and back to their shared bedroom.

“Y.. Yes, so.. sorry.” Sehyoon stammered, slightly embarrassed, and a soft smile stretched out on Junhee’s face.

“It’s okay. Do you feel better? Gone to the nurse wing yet?” Junhee asked as he pulled his legs up and hugged them close to his chest. He reminded Sehyoon of a little child and he couldn’t hold a little smile back.

“I... I wasn’t re.. really sick.” He admitted, flushing, red crawling up from his neck to his face. “I... I... I... was... I was writing something.”

Junhee let out a soft, quiet laugh, as he glanced from Sehyoon’s red face to the notebook on the other’s lap.

“What were you writing?” He asked, genuine curiosity evident in his tone, nodding at the notebook.

“No.. Nothing much.” Sehyoon told him and started to fiddle with his pencil. “It’s silly.”

“You are silly.” Junhee told him, but his tone held no bite. “I’m sure it’s great. Show me.” He encouraged, smiling down at him brightly.

“I can’t. No... It’s really si.. silly.” Sehyoon shook his head in return, but before he could hide the notebook away from Junhee’s hungry sight, it was snatched out of his grasp and a heartbeat later, he was chasing Junhee around their dorm room as the other tried to read his messy handwriting.

“Don’t! Give it back!” Sehyoon yelled, trying to grab onto Junhee’s sweater and pull him back, but failing miserably. The other male kept slipping out of his grasp the last moment. “Please Junhee! Give it back!”

“Oh, no, no, Mr., it looks great.” Junhee jumped from Sehyoon’s bed to his own and back. “I am daydreaming of their ge... What does it say here?” The door of their shared dorm room pulled open and revealed Yuchan, looking startled as he glanced confusedly in between Sehyoon and Junhee, who had frozen mid-action on Sehyoon’s bed, Sehyoon clutching onto Junhee’s sweater, Junhee grasping Sehyoon’s notebook tightly in his hand.

“Wha.. What are you doing?” Yuchan asked, confusion written all over his face. Junhee laughed, unable to form a coherent response and a second later, they were still running in circles, for no reason at all, Sehyoon chasing Junhee and Yuchan chasing Sehyoon, screaming incoherently at each other as Junhee tried to make sense of Sehyoon’s clumsy writing.

“Gentle? I think it says gentle!” Junhee exclaimed, victoriously, but before he could go on Sehyoon snatched the notebook out of his fingers and hid it behind his back, pressing himself firmly against the wall.

Yuchan and Junhee fell on Junhee’s bed, breathless, limbs messily tangled with each other’s.

“What was that?” Yuchan managed as he detached himself from Junhee.

“Sehyoon refuses to show me his poetry.” Junhee complained, sitting up to look at Sehyoon across him and Yuchan, pressed against the wall by his own bed.

“He doesn’t show me either.” Yuchan scooted closer to Junhee and pursed his lips out as he laid his head on Junhee’s shoulder.

“You should read for us, Yoon.” Junhee told him and Yuchan nod eagerly at the elder’s words, almost breaking his neck in process.

“I... I can’t. I can’t. It’s... It’s silly.” Sehyoon shook his head, lowering himself on his bed.

“Let’s us be the ones to judge.” Junhee challenged, smiling.

Sehyoon looked from Junhee’s smiling, encouraging face to Yuchan’s smiling, expecting face before lowering his gaze on the floor.

He felt his heart flutter, strangely, at the sight of the two of them smiling so warmly, so dearly, at him and Sehyoon almost broke and gave up right then and there, but his fear of what they might think of him and of his poetry, fear of what their reaction might be after reading what Sehyoon had been writing for the entire day, held him back.

“N.. not yet. I... I will show when it’s done.” Sehyoon promised and it seemed to satisfy his friends.

“Okay.” Junhee said simply, still smiling at him.

They felt silent for a few minutes, their eyes wondering from one to another, lingering only for a moment, afraid of getting caught if they were to hesitate a second longer. In the end, it was Yuchan who broke the silence, head still rested on Junhee’s shoulder, smiling softly to himself, his eyes lost wandering somewhere far from his friends’ room.

“Can I stay the night?” He asked as his eyes slowly focused back on his surroundings and returned back to Junhee’s and Sehyoon’s shared dorm room from their short journey somewhere afar.

“If you promise to not get caught.” Junhee grinned and pulled the younger back down on his bed along himself, leaving Sehyoon’s heart fluttering unusually inside his chest.

 

**IX.**

 

“Look what I smuggled tonight.” Yuchan grinned as he sneaked out a whole jar of chocolate cookies out of his cloak, his friends quick to break into cheers of excitement and delight at the sight of it.

“You are the star of tonight’s meeting Kang Yuchan.” Donghun snatched the first cookie out of the jar and after taking a huge bite shot a thumps up to the younger male seated across him on the ground.

“Only tonight?” Yuchan pursed his lips, tone playful as he feigned to be deeply wounded by Donghun’s words.

“Yeah, you know, I already have a star.” Donghun gave his younger friend a light smirk as he raised his arm to wrapped it around Byeongkwan’s shoulder and pull him close.

“You are an idiot.” Byeongkwan laughed, slapping Donghun’s chest lightly, cheeks dusting in pink as he tried to hide his pleased expression.

Yuchan’s pout fell as his eyes lowered to meet the ground and suddenly Donghun was not sure if their friend was still playing along or was genuinely hurt. He opened his mouth to say something comforting to the younger, but Junhee beat him to it as he reached up to ruffle Yuchan’s hair in endearment.

“Don’t worry.” Junhee told the younger, smiling gently and running his fingers through Yuchan’s hair. “You are the brightest star across my sky.”

Donghun watched how quickly Yuchan broke into a bright smile, ears turning dark red as he turned wide, surprised eyes at Junhee. It was clear Yuchan hadn’t expected such an honest confession from the older male, and to be completely honest with himself, neither had Donghun, or Sehyoon, or Byeongkwan still caught in his arms. And maybe, not even Junhee himself.

Donghun also didn’t miss how fast Sehyoon’s eyes snapped up at Junhee as the words finally sunk deep in his mind, before he quickly turned his head to the side. Donghun couldn’t help, but laugh, drawing his friends’ attention on him and instantly dissipated growing awkward atmosphere inside the cave with his light-hearted laughter.

“Let me read something.” Donghun announced after he had calmed down and took Byeongkwan’s hand in his. “I wrote it for my Byeongkwan during our month long separation over the summer.” He explained before kissing the back of Byeongkwan’s hand.

Donghun gently cleared his throat and parted his lips, setting a gentle poem written for his lover free into the warm, soft night, as he let it wrap the cave in its warm embrace.

_“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)_

_I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear;_

_and whatever is done by only me_

_is your doing, my darling)_

_I fear no fate_

_(for you are my fate, my sweet)_

_I want no world_

_(for beautiful you are my world, my true)_

_And you are whatever a moon has always meant_

_And whatever a sun will always sing is you_

_Here is the deepest secret nobody knows_

_(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud_

_and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows_

_higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)_

_And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart_

_I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart).” ~~(A/N: original poem by E.E. Cummings)~~_

Donghun finished his poem by pulling Byeongkwan in a kiss, whispering _I love you_ against his boyfriend’s mouth. And the other three felt something strange, something strong, something hungry churn inside their chests, as their fingers grazed each other on the ground, eyes fleeting on each other’s faces - cautious.

Maybe Sehyoon had finally found the name for the strange feeling stirred by the gentleness of smiles of his two friends that were seated beside him on the ground.

 

**X.**

 

Sehyoon and Yuchan were spread out on Sehyoon’s bed, noses buried in their own respective books, when the door of Sehyoon’s and Junhee’s dorm room was thrown open and revealed a widely smiling Junhee, bouncing excitedly on his feet as he walked further inside.

Junhee laughed when his eyes landed on the two of them on the bed as he threw stack of papers over their heads.

“What, are you drunk?” Yuchan asked, raising his brows at the older boy, as he pushed himself upright, putting his book aside to get a better look of Junhee.

“Nooo, Channie, noo, I’m not drunk.” Junhee sang sweetly, wide, almost dreamy smile still dancing across his lips, eyes dazed and cheeks dusted in red.

“Wha... Ca.. Captive Prince?” Sehyoon asked as he snatched one of the papers from the bed and his eyes instantly focused on the single word written in bold, black letters.

“Yes, yes, Yoonie, Captive Prince.” Junhee whispered as he spread his arms out and plopped down on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling with dreamy smile on his face.

“What is Captive Prince?” Yuchan asked and when Junhee said nothing, he grabbed another paper Junhee had thrown over his and Sehyoon’s heads from the ground. “Don’t te... Junhee, my god! Am I thi... Did you get the role?!” Yuchan screamed, couldn’t hold his excitement and pride back, almost falling face-first on the ground as he tried to push himself up and lost his footing on the ground. Sehyoon was quick to grab on the younger’s waist and pulled him back on the bed and close to his chest.

“Be careful.” He whispered, but Yuchan paid no mind to his words and threw the book he had been reading before Junhee had emerged inside the room, at Junhee. The other male was still staring up at the ceiling and his dreamy smile was starting to seem creepy instead of lovely and precious.

The book collided with Junhee’s thigh and he was harshly jolted out of his dreamland. He pulled himself upright, looking lost for a second.

“I got the main role! I got the main role, Chan! Sehyoon, I got the main role!” He screamed, on top of his lungs, excited, as if he wanted the whole world to know. _Sehyoon wanted the whole world to know. Sehyoon wanted the whole world to be proud of Junhee._

“Why did you not tell us you were going to audition?” Yuchan asked, sound slightly hurt, and pursed his lips out. Instead of an answer both him and Sehyoon were pulled in a bone crushing hug by Junhee. Sehyoon’s back collided with the wall by the force of it, Yuchan’s back pressed tightly against his chest and Junhee’s face buried in his hair.

“I wasn’t planning. I was afraid, but I... I just walked by accidently to... today after reading Professor Keating’s letter and I remembered his words and our first meetings at the cave and I tried and I got it. I got it. I can’t believe I got it. It has always been my dream, but never had the courage of trying out, never had the courage of going up against my father’s wishes and today, I tried, and it worked. I got the role, I am going to play. I am going to play. I am going to stand on the stage.” Sehyoon couldn’t see Junhee’s face, but he could hear trembling in his town and he knew Junhee was crying, in happiness and Sehyoon finally found enough courage to raise his arms and wrap them around Junhee’s shoulders, pulling both him and Yuchan in his embrace.

Yuchan turned in their hold and instead of his back, Sehyoon felt Yuchan’s chest press against his, felt Yuchan’s arms come around his and Junhee’s waists and tighten his hold around them.

Sehyoon was sure the name he had found for his feelings was correct.

He had found the right word on that night in the cave.

He felt their loud, excited heartbeats near his, felt their bodies tense and relax in the same way his did in their arms, felt the world rearrange itself and fell in peace, in its rightful place as they stayed wrapped in each other’s embraces.

Sehyoon let the reality sink in.

_He was in love._

_He was in love with two of his friends._

And suddenly all his recent poems made sense.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there.  
> Here goes the second half of the story. I hope you will enjoy reading it.  
> Warning: Please proceed with caution as in the later parts (XIII) one of the characters is described contemplating suicide.  
> I will leave what happens after their last day at Welton up to your imagination.  
> Thank you so much for reading.  
> I apologize for the mistakes in advance. I didn't really get to fix them.  
> Take care.

 

**XI.**

 

“It’s your turn, Jun.” Byeongkwan urged, teeth chattering, as he wrapped a blanket he had brought along tighter around his and Donghun’s shivering bodies.

The weather had grown chillier in the past weeks, leaves of high trees surrounding them had finally gone yellow, their greenness committed as fading memories of summer, awaiting for the cycle of nature to continue itself, green replaced by red and yellow and by nothingness in winder, cold biting at the nakedness of the trees, and then again, repeat itself, _green, red and yellow, nothing, green, red and yellow, nothing, all over again and again._

“I won’t be reading my own poem tonight.” Junhee announced, clasping his hands together.

Sehyoon had come to learn that it was one of Junhee’s habit little habits. He did it at every meeting before he would completely lose himself in his poems, in his stories, in his own or someone else’s borrowed words, an attempt that never failed to gather everyone’s attention on him and make him the centre of the universe. “I will read Invictus by our good old Henley tonight.” Junhee pulled his coat tighter around him, the blanket he had brought along completely forgotten since the moment he had placed it around Yuchan’s and Sehyoon’s shivering backs.

His lips parted and his companions lost themselves in his voice once again as they let Junhee’s voice welcome them in the world their friend was trying to convey. At every meeting, Junhee invited them to join him in his own, unknown, unexplored world and his friends, without any resistance, drifted away from reality and become a part of Junhee and his world of mysteries.

_“Out of the night that covers me,_

_Black as the pit from pole to pole,_

_I thank whatever gods may be_

_For my unconquerable soul._

_In the fell clutch of circumstance_

_I have not winced nor cried aloud._

_Under the bludgeonings of chance_

_My head is bloody, but unbowed._

_Beyond this place of wrath and tears_

_Looms but the Horror of the shade,_

_And yet the menace of the years_

_Finds and shall find me unafraid._

_It matters not how strait the gate,_

_How charged with punishments the scroll,_

_I am the master of my fate,_

_I am the captain of my soul.”_

Junhee released a shaky breath as his eyes roamed on the entranced faces of his companions and nodded. A silent gesture and as though they had understood him perfectly everyone repeated the same two lines in unison, at the exact same time, in the exact same ways.

_I am the master of my fate,_

_I am the captain of my soul.”_

Sehyoon knew it wasn’t only an encouragement to his fellow poets, but to himself. Junhee was going against his father’s wishes playing in a musical and he had already realized that his choices could bring him a great wrath upon himself, but he couldn’t back out now. He had always wanted to try and he had finally found courage and even if it would cost him his own life he was going to stand on the stage and bring his character to life.

_Master of my fate._

_Captain of my soul._

_Were they truly?_

Sehyoon wasn’t sure, but he would like to think they did. He wanted to see Junhee stand on the stage, slip in his true nature and grab on the stars he had always silently wished for, but never truly had had enough courage to touch.

And if they truly were masters of their own fates, maybe one day Junhee would act in a play written by Sehyoon, would whisper the words pieced by Sehyoon, give life to a character invented by Sehyoon.

 

**XII.**

 

Sehyoon hugged himself to his chest, curled up on the cold, concrete staircase of Welton’s main entrance, a still wrapped desk set lying abandoned by his feet.

_It was his birthday._

His parents had never really celebrated his birthdays and he had grown to spending it unceremoniously every year, each spent just like any other day, nothing special, him and his unending collection of useless desk sets. However, he couldn’t help the sudden heaviness spreading across his chest as he stared at the exact same desk set his parents had given him as present for four years in row.

“Sehyoon!” Sehyoon heard a voice he had grown familiar with over the months calling his name, growing closer and nearer to where he sat on the cold ground. He raised his head from his knees to see Yuchan running down the stairs, waving his bony fingers in the air, his wide, bright smile dancing on his face.

Sehyoon stared at the younger’s face for a second longer. Yuchan had such a summer face, warm, and bright, and delightful, complete opposite of Sehyoon’s frosty, winter face, hard and cold and empty, a season one would only love if they held a special, very special reason for loving it inside their hearts.

He stared at Yuchan and thought to himself that the younger male was in love with being alive, eyes full of light, smile gracing his lips – bright.

Sehyoon often liked to think that Yuchan carried the sun in his smile and if one were lucky enough to have Yuchan’s heart, they would also have the sun.

Sehyoon had grown very used to it and he found himself unable to imagine waking up one day and not being greeted by the younger’s smile. Yuchan always found a moment, no matter how busy, how stressed, how sad, how tired they were, to grin at him, across the room, across the table, across the hall, in the middle of an exam, everywhere their eyes would meet.

Yuchan’s smile had become a gentle source of light and warmth and Sehyoon had grown sure that it would get him through the cloudy, grey, rainy, lonely days of late autumn and winter, where the coldness and loneliness tried to lock Sehyoon back in his shell, inside his room, in his oversized sweaters and under his warm blankets, Yuchan’s warm, bright, wide smiles and melodic laughter drew him out of his shell, out of his room and of the comfort of his blankets. He even shared his favourite sweaters with Yuchan whenever the younger sneaked out of his own room to spend the night in Sehyoon’s and Junhee’s.

The younger male had become a source of delight in Sehyoon’s dull life. There had been times when Sehyoon used to think that he would never meet someone who would stir waves of happiness and warmth and of other various kinds of fuzzy feelings inside his chest. He had deemed such a thing impossible for someone like himself, but as Yuchan skipped down the stairs to where he had found a shelter, calling his name, smiling and waving at him, all his doubts washed away at once, as though Yuchan’s eager waving had completely wiped them out of his mind. Now, Sehyoon thought it possible for someone to become his source of happiness and of warmth and of inspiration and of love, but one, lonely thought remained deeply enshrined in his mind and kept him awake at night, could he one day also become someone’s source of warmth and happiness and love?

“I have looked for you everywhere.” Yuchan breathed out after he had crashed at Sehyoon’s side and pulled him closer.

“Sorry. Wa.. wanted some time alone.” Sehyoon confessed in a small voice and tried to avert his eyes from the younger. His heart slammed against his chest with so much force, Sehyoon couldn’t help, but wonder if it was trying to rip through his ribcage and find its way inside Yuchan’s.

“Is everything alright?” Yuchan asked and leaned forward to look at Sehyoon’s face. “Did something happen?” He could hear worry in the younger’s tone.

“No, everything is fine.” Sehyoon tried to give him a convincing smile, but ended up lowering his gaze on the ground. “It’s my birthday.” He admitted, faintly, and heard Yuchan gasp.

“Y.. Your birthday? Your birthday?! Why did you not say anything?! Sehyoon!” Yuchan pulled away and demanded, his fingers curling into fists and gently colliding with Sehyoon’s chest. “You are an idiot! We could have sneaked out and celebrated.” Yuchan continued hitting him, faintly, softly, with no intent, just to make his point clearer, lips pursed out in disappointment.

Yuchan suddenly yelped and Sehyoon startled when hands came to wrap around Yuchan’s failing arms and held them still against Sehyoon’s chest.

“How about a happy birthday, Channie?” Junhee broke into a teasing smile as he stared down at them, eyes dancing from Yuchan to Sehyoon and back.

“Oh.” Yuchan let out softly and Junhee released his wrists from his gentle hold. “Ye.. Yeah, Ha.. Happy birthday, Yoon!” Yuchan whispered, gaze dropping on Sehyoon’s knees shyly. Sehyoon could see his ears turning red.

“Happy birthday!” Junhee sang sweetly and reached over Yuchan’s shoulder to ruffle Sehyoon’s hair, causing a content smile to stretch out on Sehyoon’s lips, heart fluttering in sudden rush of delight.

“Happy birthday!” Yuchan told him once more, shyness absent from his eyes, as he gave Sehyoon a bright smile, and pulled him in a hug. “Sorry for hitting you.” The younger mumbled against his chest and both Sehyoon and Junhee found themselves laughing.

“Next time just give him a present.” Junhee wrapped his arms around Yuchan’s and Sehyoon’s joined forms and pressed them against his chest.

Sehyoon felt the previous heaviness growing inside his chest starting to cease, replaced by an unfamiliar fleeting of butterflies inside his stomach.

Sehyoon was happy when he was with them, because they listened. They listened and understood. They understood his silence and his nervous stammering, his unspoken thoughts and quietly whispered sentences.

Sehyoon could trust them to listen and understand, watch and understand, and never, never compare him to someone else.

They accepted him how he was and he was truly himself when he was with them.

Sehyoon could trust Yuchan and Junhee enough to see inside his soul.

“Let’s steal some food and celebrate.” Junhee suggested and a second later all three of them were scrambling to their feet and running inside the building, Sehyoon’s useless desk set completely forgotten.

 

**XIII.**

 

What Sehyoon didn’t expect to see when he returned to his room from dinner was Junhee sitting on the floor, face buried in his hands as he cried his heart out, an open envelope and unfolded paper lying by his feet. Sehyoon felt his heart still and his breath catch. Worry making home inside his chest.

“Ju.. Junhee.” He managed a minute later, Junhee’s name delicate on his lips, completely lost, unsure of what to do, how to comfort the crying male.

Junhee finally felt Sehyoon’s presence in the room with him and looked up, face no longer hidden in his hands, and Sehyoon’s heart wrenched in pain at the sight of the other’s red eyes and tear stained face.

He lowered himself in front of the other and gathered Junhee’s face in his hands, felt him shiver under his fingers.

“Wha.. What happened?” Sehyoon dared asking and wiped Junhee’s tears away.

“M.. My father he.. he found out.” Junhee released a shaky breath, trying to calm down and hold himself whole. “He is angry... no, furious w.. with me and wants.. no, is de.. demanding an ex.. explanation. He.. he wa.. wants me to im.. immediately quit whatever si.. silly thi.. things I.. I ha.. have been up to.” Junhee tried to explain, unable to hold his tears back, breaking down in a loud sobbing once again.

Sehyoon gathered him in his arms and cradled him close to his chest as he whispered soothing words and promises of _it will be alright_ to the crying boy. He felt Junhee’s arms come up on his back, tight and desperate, as though the younger was searching for something solid, something real, something close, something possible, to pull himself up again.

Sehyoon knew Junhee had his mind set and he was sure Junhee wasn’t going to let his father take his chance of standing on the stage away. He had let him strip him of his dreams and of his wishes and of his own choices for a long time. It was time Junhee took his own fate in his hands.

“Hey, I brought sa...” The door pulled open and revealed a smiling Yuchan trying to balance stacks of sandwiches against his chest. The younger’s smile instantly vanished when his gaze landed on Junhee and Sehyoon on the floor, crying, curled around each other’s trembling bodies.

“What happened?” Yuchan asked as he abandoned his sandwiches on Sehyoon’s desk.

He lowered himself behind them and took the paper by Junhee’s feet, his eyes darting across the hurriedly scribbled sentences of Junhee’s father.

Sehyoon watched him mutter something under his breath as light shifted inside the younger’s eyes. Yuchan threw the letter aside and pressed his chest on Junhee’s side, his arms coming around both Sehyoon and Junhee.

“It’s okay, Junnie.” Yuchan whispered and placed a kiss on the side of Junhee’s head. “It’s okay. You are going to stand on the stage and prove him each sentence he had written wrong. You are going to be the main star of the play and make him regret his decisions.” Yuchan told him and continued cursing Junhee’s father and whispering comforting, encouraging words to Junhee at the same time.

Sehyoon, not fluent in his way with words, held them dear and tried to comfort them silently with his presence.

Minutes passed and they remained wrapped in each other’s arms. Junhee’s cries slowly faded away, Yuchan’s curses and ill wishes to Junhee’s father lessened, but Sehyoon’s tight hold remained strong around them.

He heard Junhee laugh at something Yuchan had said, vibration of his laughter travelling through them. Sehyoon found himself smiling. Neither Yuchan nor Junhee tried to pull away when all three of them felt silent, comfortable and peaceful in each other’s embraces.

 

**XIV.**

 

Junhee, Sehyoon, Byeongkwan and Donghun almost tore down the door of Yuchan’s dorm room when the younger didn’t arrive at breakfast. _Something serious must have happened for Yuchan to skip breakfast or any other sat of meal._

The last time they had seen their youngest friend was around midnight when they had sneaked back inside the school after their meeting at the cave and they couldn’t help but think the worst. _What if he had gotten himself caught? What if his roommate had finally talked behind his back?_

“Chan!” Junhee demanded, impatient, and knocked on the door with so much force Sehyoon heard his bones make an uncomfortable sound. Junhee winced and cradled his wrist against his chest, but pain didn’t hold him back from shouting the younger’s name. “Kang Yuchan!”

“Mr. Park!” Came a stern voice from the other end of the corridor and caused all four of them to fall silent. Sehyoon turned to see Mr. Nolan glaring at them, irritation clear on his face.

“Are you trying to tear the door down, Mr. Park?” The man asked and walked over to where the four of them stood. “Mr. Kang was taken in the nurse wing after he woke up with a high fever.” Mr. Nolan informed them calmly and before he could say anything else all four of them were scrambling out of the corridor and to the east wing of the school building where the nurse office was located.

“We shouldn’t have stayed out that long last night.” Byeongkwan said as they were running up the stairs. It was just a few days away from Christmas and the nights had grown unbearably cold at Welton, unbearable enough that sometimes they found themselves shivering from cold inside their own rooms.

They had stubbornly stayed out until midnight yesterday, not wanting to retreat back to school, lost celebrating Junhee’s first play that was set to take place on Christmas’ eve, only three days left until then. Only three days and Kang Yuchan dared to fall sick right before the sat date.

They startled both the school nurse and Yuchan when they barged inside the chamber, colliding with each other’s backs. Yuchan laid on the bed, hair damp on his forehead, face and bare neck covered in beads of sweat, lit in flames as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“Kang Yuchan!” Donghun beat them to it, shouting the younger’s name as though he was demanding an explanation from their friend, completely forgotten where he was and how he was supposed to behave.

“Gentlemen, I would have to see you out. He is in no condition for visitors right now.” The school nurse shooed them out of the room and smacked the door close on their faces, clearly annoyed by the way they had behaved and disturbed her patients.

“When will we be able to see him?” Junhee pressed his face flat on the door, trying to ask as quietly as possible. The door pulled open and revealed the nurse, face twisted in irritation.

“Two hours.” She told them curtly and smacked the door close once again.

“Do you think he will be able to make it for the play?” Junhee asked, turning to his friends with slumped shoulders, seeming discouraged and worried for the younger.

“I’m sure he will. Don’t worry.” Sehyoon told him and reached up to rub reassuring circles on the other’s back. Junhee nodded, but didn’t say anything else in return.

“Let’s go and come back in two hours.” Donghun said and gave both Sehyoon and Junhee light pushes on their shoulders before pulling Byeongkwan next to him and walking down the hallway, Sehyoon muttering words of encouragement to Junhee as they trailed behind the couple.

When they returned to see their youngest friend promised two hours later Yuchan was nowhere in sight, the bed he had laid in empty and made new, no sign of him ever being there found inside the chamber.

“His parents came and took him.” The nurse told them, dryly, when Donghun and Byeongkwan had demanded an explanation.

“You said he wo...” Donghun started in protest, but the nurse cut him off, impatient to see the four of them out of her office.

“I wasn’t aware of his parents coming to take him. He was in no condition to stay here on his own either. It will be better for your friend to spend Christmas’ at home, so why don’t you boys leave now and let me continue my work?” She smiled at them, forced and empty, and Byeongkwan hurriedly pulled his friends out of the office.

“But he said he was staying.” Junhee whispered, voice dripping in sadness, disappointment clear on his face. Yuchan had promised him that he would stay to see his play.

“He did. He must have been very ill for his parents to come and take him.” Sehyoon pressed his palm on the small of Junhee’s back, reassuring, and led him down the hallway once again.

 

**XV.**

 

“Park Junhee, Kim Sehyoon, there is an incoming call for you.” Sehyoon and Junhee were called out of the dining hall to take a call at the school’s payphone. They had instantly pushed their plates aside and run their way to the entryway.

“Chan!” Junhee yelled into the speaker as soon as he took the phone in his hands, sure of the caller being their missing friend.

“Ju.. Junhee.” Came a familiar, but faint voice from the other end of the line. “I... I’m sorry for le.. leaving so su.. suddenly. Turns out I ha.. have caught Pneu.. Pneumonia and ha.. have to be bed ridden for.. for a f.. few days.” Yuchan explained, tiredly. He sounded exhausted.

“It’s okay, Channie. Get well and come back soon, okay?” Junhee reassured him, tone warm and gentle and even though he couldn’t see, he knew Yuchan was smiling on the other end.

“I... I will do.” Yuchan promised and felt silent for a few seconds before regaining his voice. “If... If I do.. don’t make it to.. to the play... I.. I am so.. so sorry. I will.. I will surely come for.. the ne.. next time.”

Yuchan sounded so disappointed and apologetic and Junhee felt something press in discomfort inside his chest. He didn’t want Yuchan to feel bad about not being able to come and watch him play. He wanted, no, needed Yuchan there, but the younger’s health was much more important and he couldn’t ask him to put his well being at risk for his own sake. As Yuchan had told him he would come to see him play next time. There would be a next time, right? Junhee wanted to ask. Junhee wanted to believe that there would be a next time, another chances for him to stand on the stage and feel alive while doing something he truly loved.

“It’s okay, Channie.” He said and tried to hide growing trembling in his tone. “Take care, okay?”

“You too.” Yuchan whispered from the other end before proudly adding, “Good luck,Park Junhee! You are the most talented actor I have ever seen.” Junhee laughed, softly, and heard Yuchan laugh with him on the other side of the line.

“Thank you, Channie.” Junhee told him and felt as though something was missing, something he or Yuchan had to say before bidding each other their usual “ _see you soon”_ , but he couldn’t place what it was exactly and maybe neither did Yuchan, so they exchanged quiet well wishes for each other and Junhee passed the phone to Sehyoon standing patiently beside him.

“Chan.” Junhee heard Sehyoon whispered the younger’s name as he turned to wipe his gathering tears away.

_Chan._

Sehyoon had whispered, soft and delicate and deliberate, and Junhee heard the exact meaning of what he had been searching for just a few seconds ago.

_Chan._

Sehyoon had said.

_Yuchan. Sehyoon._

Junhee would have said if he were to reply to their call of his own name.

 

**XVI.**

 

The Christmas’ eve came sooner than Junhee had anticipated. He was nervous. Today was the most important moment of his life. Today his fate was to be decided. Today he would die or find the exact purpose of why he had bloomed in life.

He left early in the morning, without being able to greet Sehyoon a good morning in person, but he left a note for the other behind and carefully placed it on their shared bedside table.

He had come in terms with the knowledge that Yuchan wouldn’t be able to come, still bed ridden. His parents had forbidden him of leaving his own bedroom, let alone the house.

Junhee was heartbroken by it, disappointed, saddened, pained even. He had wanted to share this moment with his friends, with the dearest people in his life, with people he had considered his family, with people he had come to realize a few days ago would love to call something more than a friend.

 Junhee tried to comfort himself that there would be next times and Yuchan would have another chance to see him standing on the stage.

Junhee took one last glance of the sleeping male on the bed next to his own before carefully closing the door behind his back.

_Today was the day._

_Today Park Junhee would become master of his own fate._

_Today Park Junhee would take a hold of his life and snatch it away from his father’s suffocating fingers._

_Today Park Junhee would become a star._

_The main star of the play._

 

**XVII.**

 

_Junhee was made for stage._

That was the only thought that repeated itself inside Sehyoon’s head endlessly as he watched his friend on the stage. He watched Junhee and felt himself shiver, arms pricked with goose bumps, eyes lit in wonder and fascination and amazement.

_Park Junhee._

_He was made for stage._

_He should never in his life have to leave the stage._

The way he moved, he sang, he danced, whispered each word and each sentence, how his emotions spilled out of his expressive eyes and danced among the spectators of the play, put them under his spell, under daze, completely entranced.

Sehyoon could sit and watch Junhee perform for hours on, for days with no rest.

Yuchan had said and Junhee had become the main star of the play.

And Sehyoon was sure everyone would remember his name, _Park Junhee, Park Junhee, Park Junhee,_ the way his eyes gazed down at them from the stage, the way his hands moved and his lips quivered and trembled.

Sehyoon was sure people would still be talking of Park Junhee and his captivating performance even during their Christmas’ gatherings.

_Park Junhee was wonderful, brilliant, magical, entrancing, amazing._

And Sehyoon couldn’t help, but throw his hands in the air and stand up, cheer loudly for the other male when the play had ended.

The curtains closed for the second time and swallowed Junhee and his sparkling eyes and his smiling face, but Sehyoon still stood and clapped, proud smile unable to leave his face.

“Let’s go.” Sehyoon wasn’t sure how long he stood there, clapping, when Byeongkwan pulled him out of his trace. “Let’s wait for him by the backstage.” Byeongkwan pointed him towards the small staircase with his head and Sehyoon nodded, still lost in his thoughts, still wondering, still amazed, still thinking of Park Junhee and his unearthly ability of bringing characters long forgotten back to life, giving them his own body and soul, his own eyes to see and his own mouth to express themselves.

_Yuchan would have been so proud if he had seen him play._

A thought fleeted through his mind and Sehyoon felt his smile drop.

It was such a pity Yuchan wasn’t here with them, with him, to see Junhee be the brightest star of the play.

Actors came and went through the backstage door as they waited for Junhee outside of it, slightly anxious and full of pride and excitement.

_Junhee had done it._

Sehyoon felt something inside him shatter when the door slammed open and his eyes locked with the man he had heard Junhee call father and seen Yuchan loath with his whole being on his very first day at Welton.

_No._

Junhee had told him his parents wouldn’t be coming. Junhee had told them his parents had refused to come and see him play.

The man’s icy gaze bored into Sehyoon for the smallest of moment and a malicious sneer took over his face. Sehyoon’s eyes wandered from Junhee’s father to Junhee behind him, seeming small and frightened, previous sparkles had completely left his eyes, his proud smile gone and face taken over by fear and concern.

“Ju.. Junhee.” Sehyoon whispered, silently cursing himself for stammering. Now was not the time. His nervous stammering wouldn’t change a thing.

Junhee’s father pushed through them and all the people that had gathered to see and congratulate his son on his successful performance.

_No._

_No._

_This wasn’t how everything was supposed to happen._

_This wasn’t how everything was supposed to end._

_Junhee would finish the play and they would sneak out and celebrate in their little, snow-covered cave._

“Junhee come back!” Donghun’s voice pulled Sehyoon back to the present and before he could register his actions he was running after Junhee and his father, his legs moving on his own, pulling him to where Junhee’s father pulled Junhee.

“You can’t do this Mr. Park!” Sehyoon found himself shouting at the man. His hands grasped onto Junhee’s coat tightly as he tried to pull the other male close to himself. “Come with us, Junhee.” Sehyoon told him, but Junhee said nothing, lowered his gaze on the floor and avoided looking into Sehyoon’s desperate eyes. “Come with us, Junhee.” He repeated and repeated until Junhee was pulled out and away of his hold by his father’s harsh hands.

“You can’t do this Mr. Park!” Sehyoon screamed after the man, for the first time in his life not caring that every person outside of the theater had turned to stare at him. “You can’t ruin his life! You can’t do this!” Sehyoon screamed and kept screaming, and screaming, and screaming, but all in vain, all in vain. The man paid no attention to him as he forced Junhee inside the car and slammed the door shut, a silent warning of _stay seated_.

Junhee looked up at him, eyes soulless and face drained of emotion. He looked exhausted. Sehyoon saw Junhee mouth _goodbye_ to him as the car drove away.

 _Don’t let them take him away_ – a voice inside him demanded, full of warning, full of silent meanings that pulled Sehyoon back in action.

He run after the car, desperate, screaming Junhee's name over and over again until his legs decided to finally give out under him and he stumbled in the snow, tears finding their way on his cheeks as a loud cry of Junhee's name left his lips.

He sat on the ground, for how long he didn’t know, crying Junhee's name silently and asking him to come back.

He felt someone's gentle arms around his shoulders and looked up to see Donghun's soft eyes gazing down at him, in understanding, in compassion, in sadness, and the older boy tried to pull him up, his hold around  Sehyoon's shoulders growing tighter.

“Let's go.” Donghun told him after he had managed to steady the crying male on his legs.

Sehyoon raised his head to look at him, but instead of Donghun's face, his eyes found themselves wandering on Byeongkwan’s face, standing a step behind of his boyfriend, his eyes filled with the same emotions, sadness, worry, compassion, understanding.

“We should go back.” Donghun said and shook Sehyoon lightly to pull him back to his senses. But Sehyoon didn’t moved as though completely frozen, staring at something invisible ahead.

“No, no, no, I can't. I have to go. I have to go find Junhee.” Sehyoon sudden sprung back to life, shaking his head as he freed himself from Donghun's grasp and stepped back.

_He had to go._

_He had to find him._

_He had to tell Junhee this was not the end._

_He had to tell Junhee his dream of standing on the stage had not reached its end yet._

Donghun reached forward and tried to get a hold of him once again, but Sehyoon backed away from him, like a frightened deer surrounded by a starved pack of wolves.

“Let's just go back, Yoon.” Donghun tried to convince him, voice gentle, as he held out a gloved hand for Sehyoon to take, but the younger only continued shaking his head in return and kept moving away from his friends.

“I have to find Junhee.” Sehyoon whispered and before Donghun could react he was scrambling in snow, his boots slippery under him, hurried, frantic, desperate.

_He had to find Junhee._

_Even if he froze to death out there in cold, he had to find Junhee, before someone else, before something else could find him. He had to find Junhee._

 “Sehyoon!” He heard Donghun call after him, one, twice, he lost count of it, not stopping for a second. The older boy didn't follow and Sehyoon pushed hard against the snow. _He had to find Junhee._

_Junhee,_

_Be gentle on yourself please._

 

**XVIII.**

 

Junhee tried to explain, went through the same story, the same dreams, the same wishes and the same passions, hundred times over and over again, but his parents wanted to hear nothing, _angry, embarrassed, disappointed,_ all they wanted was their dear son to follow the path they had already chosen for him, maybe even before Junhee had been born, maybe even before a soft cry of life finding its way through him had left his lips, even before he had learned how to speak and how to walk.

And Junhee, exhausted, gave up and turned to find peace in his lonely, cold bedroom, no Sehyoon and Yuchan, no Donghun and Byeongkwan to offer him comfort, his parents disappointed, disapproving gazes burning on his back, heavy, and burdening and unbearable.

He was exhausted.

He was exhausted of living the life that was not his.

The only script he didn’t want to follow.

The only play he wanted to quit.

The only stage he no longer wanted to stand on.

He was exhausted of playing the Park Junhee that was nothing like him,

That had no passion and lived only to please.

_He had to quit._

_He had to find another script._

_The one he would be able to write with his own hands, with his own words and dreams and wishes._

He wasn’t sure how long he laid on the cold bed inside his dark bedroom, staring up at the ceiling, drained of energy, drained of colors, drained of emotions, drained of life, _joyless, numb, exhausted._

Junhee pushed himself up, slipped out of the covers and exposed himself to the cold night that immediately rushed to bite his skin, rip him to shreds.

But he didn’t care.

He no longer cared.

He would rather be shredded to bits than continue playing the same stage over and over again with no end.

He was exhausted

And he needed to find an escape.

Before his mind could register what he was doing he felt cold metal melt against his skin, and he was suddenly staring down at his father’s gun, fingers loosely wrapped around it, trembling.

He tightened his hold around the gun and stopped shivering. Cold of the night had lost its meaning compared to the numbness of his body.

He was exhausted.

Park Junhee had finally found courage to admit to himself he was exhausted.

His life had always been nothing, but a lie.

And he was exhausted of living the lies.

Junhee raised the gun and felt his hands shake, uncontrollable. He pressed its cold lips made of metal kiss his temple.

_I have to do this._

_I need to do this._

Junhee was about to let his heavy eyes flutter close when he caught a familiar figure struggled through the snow on the narrow path that led way to the porch of his house, illuminated by street lights.

_I have to do this._

_I’m sorry._

_I have to do this._

He pressed his eyes shut tightly.

_I’m so sorry._

_One._

_I have to do this._

_Two._

_I have to do this._

_Th…_

A soft knock echoed inside the silent house.

And Junhee felt something in him snap.

_Sehyoon._

He released the gun from his desperate fingers and watched it fell on the carpeted floor as the soft knock, grown louder, echoed one more time.

As though an invisible hand had pulled him back to his senses Junhee was darting out of his father’s office room and down through the corridor, wishing silently that the cautious knocking hadn’t awoken his parents sleeping upstairs.

_Sehyoon._

Junhee pulled the door open and felt his heart slam against his chest.

They stood silently, for seconds, for minutes, maybe for hours, staring into each other’s eyes, tears straining Sehyoon’s cold bitten, red cheeks.

“Sehyoon.” Junhee whispered and he was crying.

_Sehyoon._

“You... How di...” He started, but Sehyoon didn’t let him finish, gathered Junhee’s shirt in his fingers and pulled him in, his frozen lips finding salvation against Junhee’s.

“You are fine.” Sehyoon whispered. “You are fine. You are fine.” He continued as though he was trying to convince himself that Junhee was fine.

_Junhee was fine._

“Sehyoon.” Junhee whispered and leaned in to kiss Sehyoon, share their bodily warmth with each other, but his gaze landed on a shivering figure across the yard and stopped mid-action, heart slamming against his chest in the exact same way it had when he had opened the door to see Sehyoon standing on his doorway. Sehyoon turned to follow his gaze.

Yuchan was standing by the open gates.

The younger male smiled, shakily, as though he was struggling to keep it on his face, but he smiled at them nevertheless, staggering slightly as he run to where Junhee and Sehyoon stood, frozen, awaiting, struck, and crashed against them, pulling them in his arms, closer, and closer, as closer as humanly possible to himself.

“I... I.. called and Do.. Donghun sa.. said you di.. didn’t come back and yo.. your dad... and I wa.. was scared.. so sca.. scared that you wo.. you would…” Yuchan was crying as he buried himself in Junhee’s and Sehyoon’s embrace, their arms solid, secure and convincing around his trembling body. “You can’t leave me, okay? You can’t. You can’t leave me. How am I going to bear Donghun and Byeongkwan on my own if you leave me all alone?” Yuchan pushed himself slightly away to look at them, breaking into his wide, bright, warm smile, a gentle reminder to Junhee and Sehyoon that the sun would rise even after the darkest of nights.

 Junhee and Sehyoon smiled back at the younger male, full of reassurance, gentle and comforting and loving and Junhee gathered them in his arms one more time.

“We aren’t leaving. We aren’t going anywhere, Chan.” Junhee promised and felt Sehyoon nod against his chest, breathing in sharply, and pulling them closer, convincing himself that he was not dreaming and Junhee was fine and Yuchan was there with them and this was happening and they were real.

 

**XIX.**

 

“Who will dare to open the meeting tonight?” Junhee asked, smiling, as he pointed his companions with his flashlight one by one.

Yuchan shook his head at him when the light fell on his face and Junhee moved from him to Byeongkwan who also refused to open the night. Donghun motioned Junhee to start, as a part of the tradition. But Junhee shook his head and refused to utter a word until someone agreed to share what they had prepared for their final night.

Things were changing and Junhee wanted change to find itself inside Dead Poets Society.

“I.. I will go.” A soft voice Junhee had grown inexplicably familiar to said and the four pair of eyes whipped to look at Sehyoon seated in between Junhee and Yuchan, their hands caged in between his.

Junhee tried to hold his proud smile back, but his eyes met Yuchan’s over Sehyoon’s shoulder and both of them ended up smiling, foolishly, feeling of pride uncontainable as they leaned closer to their lover.

Sehyoon had never read his poem to them, had never truly engaged in their conversations, sat still and listened, understood and remembered, committed everything to his memory, to the memories they all had come to cherish and hold dear in their hearts. But today was his last chance to say something, share his thoughts and ideas and emotions and words with the others.

It was their final night at Welton and the final meeting of Dead Poets Society in their secret cave in the woods by the river.

Soon all five of them would be heading out on the next stage of their lives, away from Welton, but not from one another.

Their secret getaways from school and their lives as free, unafraid, wild-hearted poets of Dead Poets Society a precious memory to hold close to their hearts.

“I want to read something I wrote fo.. for Junhee and Yuchan.” Sehyoon told them and pushed himself up only to kneel in front of his boyfriends on the ground again, cheeks dusting in red and hands trembling slightly.

He took Junhee’s and Yuchan’s hands in his and laid them conjoined in his lap. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, unable to see their faces, but felt their fingers squeeze his in courage.

 _“..._ _I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,_

_I love you directly without problems or pride:_

_I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,_

_except in this form in which I am not nor are you,_

_so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,_

_so close that your eyes close with my dreams.” ~~(A/N: the original poem belongs to Pablo Neruda and I claim no ownership of it)~~_

Sehyoon finished his poem and opened his eyes. He felt his heart tremble inside his chest when Junhee and Yuchan leaned in at the same time to place a kiss on both sides of his mouth, their palms gentle on his cheeks as they whispered their own confessions of _I love you_ to Sehyoon, only for Sehyoon to hear, only for the three of them to know.

“They are worse than us.” Sehyoon heard Byeongkwan say to Donghun behind them and then all five of them were laughing.

They were leaving Welton, but not Dead Poets Society, for they would always be the same poets and the same wild-hearted boys that had gone out searching freedom in the woods and found it in each other’s arms.

 


End file.
